Soul Binder (Soul Saga (Book #2))

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Soul Binder (Soul Saga (Book #2)) Page 19

by Todd, E. L.


  Rancar nodded his approval. “We were certain that your decision would benefit the Continent and so they have—we owe you our gratitude.”

  Drake smiled. “Thank you, Rancar. Your support was essential to my triumphs.” Rancar nodded his thanks.

  The king looked at Artremian and saw his head hang heavy from his shoulders. His hand was pressed to his forehead and his eyes were closed, obviously in the silent throes of grief. “Artremian, are you happy with the progression of the Mercantile Project?”

  Art’s response came out as whisper. “Yes, m’lord,” he said. He didn’t open his eyes when he spoke.

  Drake continued forward. “There is another reason why I have gathered you here today. It is something I have never spoken of, and I know you all will accept my proposal with open hearts.” He looked around the table. “Letumian Province will be the new capital of the Unified Continent, and I will be constructing new fortifications around the realm along with the neighboring towns. It will not be breached by any attack.”

  Father Hyphalia stared at the king. “And who would attack it, sire? Wasn’t the purpose of your ascent to the throne to ensure the eradication of any possibility of war? Surely, this expense is unnecessary.”

  “Your naivety betrays you, Father,” he said. “That is why holy priests should remain out of politics. Your invitation to this meeting was to witness it, not participate in it, Your Grace.”

  Father Hyphalia retained a stoic expression, not betraying the true anger flooding his body. Aleco could see him grip the staff of his order and knew he was fighting his anger just as much as he was.

  Drake looked away from the Guardian of Channeled Souls and turned to the council. “What say you?” The king didn’t know why he bothered to ask. He knew every decision he made, no matter how ludicrous, would be accepted by the council with no resistance.

  Rancar turned to the council members and they whispered under their breaths. The lead councilmen turned from his colleagues and stared at the king. “And how do you plan to finance this undertaking?”

  Drake smiled. “With the revenue of Paso Robles, of course,” he said.

  Rancar was sweating from the scalp and he wiped away the perspiration of his skin. “Very well, sire. Your proposal is accepted by the council.”

  “Good,” he said. “Thank you, councilmen.”

  The council nodded.

  Drake rose from his seat. “That adjourns this meeting. Thank you for attending. You are welcome to stay in the palace of Roslyn until you are prepared to venture back to your lands.” The king walked past the table and patted Artremian on the shoulder. “I insist you all take advantage of my hospitality.” Art cringed under his touch. Drake walked to the holy men and nodded to Father Hyphalia. He turned his gaze on the Chief Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest and extended his hand. Father Rhonian looked down at his outstretched palm for a long moment before he forced himself to return the embrace. “I’m glad the Naturalists have appointed a Nature Priest with some sense.” He dropped his hand and walked away. “It is unfortunate Father Giloth had none.” The king walked out of the grand library and closed the engraved doors behind him, leaving them in the shadow of his power. It tickled the surface of their skin and prickled their minds.

  Father Hyphalia rose from his seat and steadied his balance on the staff then walked toward the doors. “We are all doomed,” he said to no one in particular. He left the room and the councilors followed behind him. Father Rhonian watched them take their leave then rested his gaze on the Duke of Roslyn. Artremian remained in his seat with his eyes closed and his head slumped towards his chest. Father Rhonian recognized his utter despair. He looked the same when Accacia sailed from his sight across the sea. He knew the man had lost something bigger than himself.

  The Chief Nature Priest rose from his seat and placed his hand on Artremian’s shoulder, silently comforting the man and his obvious pain. Artremian looked up into the hidden face of the priest and smiled. “It wasn’t always this way,” he said. “I am sorry you have taken on the position at such a dark time. Father Hyphalia is right. We are doomed.”

  Father Rhonian took a seat next to the Duke of Roslyn. “Is there nothing you can do to stop him? You are the duke of this realm, after all.”

  Artremian shook his head. “I am no longer,” he said. “And no, there is nothing I can do. I already tried and failed miserably. I lost the love of my life in the process—my wife and unborn child. I have no reason to go on. The only reason why I do is because the king has left me no choice—he wants me to suffer.”

  Aleco nodded. “What did you do?”

  “I tried to kill him.”

  “And he survived the blow?”

  Artremian sighed. “Yes,” he said. “The man is immortal.”

  Aleco shook his head. His greatest fear had been confirmed. The king carried his Soul Binders with him at all times in retaliation of any attempts made on his life. The Nature Priest admired the duke for making the attempt, even if it was in vain.

  “I stabbed the man directly through the heart and he was unscathed. His heart continued to beat as if nothing happened. I don’t know what to think. Can this man be a god? How did this happen?”

  Father Rhonian laughed, and Artremian flinched at the sound. “Nothing could be further from the truth. The fiend just has a healing stone that restores his body to its former glory. The bastard can be killed.” Artremian stared into his hood, startled at the harshness in his voice. The sound seemed familiar. “He possesses Soul Binders, gems stored with the souls of the ancient Asquithians, and he uses the storage of souls to heal his body. If we can separate Drake from these stones, he will be vulnerable and susceptible to the edge of a sword.”

  Artremian dropped his gaze to his hands. “How do you know this?”

  “Father Giloth told me.”

  “Do you know where he is getting these stones? Perhaps we could cut him off at the source.”

  Father Rhonian shook his head. “He is harvesting them from the base of your keep. The unusual metal that constructs the walls is built from the Soul Binders. That is why he seeks to destroy your palace. So he can take the stones to his land in Letumian, guarded by the fortifications he decided to build around his realm.”

  Artremian nodded his head in understanding. He was grateful that the king wasn’t a god or some true immortal. The idea was unthinkable. He raised his head from his palms and sighed. “So, there is no hope.”

  Aleco leaned back in his chair. He saw a glass of brandy one of the councilmen left on the conference table. He grabbed the cup and swallowed the contents. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “No, probably not,” he said. “But we have to try, Artremian.”

  “Call me Art.”

  “Then call me Aleco.”

  Art faced him and stared into the contents of his hood. “You said your name is Rhonian. Nature Priests cannot lie.”

  “And I haven’t,” he said. He folded back his hood and fixed his blue gaze on the Duke of Roslyn. Artremian stared at the identical features of the king and his mouth dropped in astonishment. “My name is Rhonian Aleco, the Chief Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest, the believed dead twin of the King of the Continent.”

  Artremian continued to stare at the identical twin of the king and he felt dizzy. He never expected such a revelation. Aleco was rumored to be killed after he murdered the late Duke and Lady of Aleutian Keep, but yet he sat before him. Now he was a Nature Priest. “I don’t understand. You were killed.”

  Aleco shook his head. “Well, obviously I wasn’t, Art,” he said. “The soldiers chased me through the city, but I evaded their pursuit. Even in Drake’s youth, the men of the keep feared him, so I am certain they lied to him to spare their heads, saying they killed me even when they had not.”

  “Did you murder the Lord and Lady?”

  Aleco met his gaze with his crystal blue eyes. Artremian could see the despair in his gaze alone, mingled with the anger stretching the lines of his face. The Nature
Priest was broken and full of regret. His body emitted his need for vengeance. “Don’t be stupid, Art.”

  “So it was Drake?”

  “I misspoke,” he said. “You aren’t as dumb as I thought.”

  “It makes perfect sense. He eradicated the Lord and Lady then eliminated his only competition to the throne—his older twin brother.” Artremian stared at Aleco’s features. He was much different than he remembered him in his youth. He was a pleasant young man who had a large heart, always helping others despite their social status. He remembered Aleco handing over his entire allowance to a peasant in Roslyn city. He thought the act was unusual. After Aleco walked away, Drake grabbed the coin purse from the elderly woman, who only had one leg, and stuffed it into his pocket. Artremian never told the Lord and Lady what he had seen. “You are a different person than I remember.”

  Aleco laughed. “You have no idea.”

  “I don’t know what assistance I can be to you, Father,” he said. “I am confined to these walls, unable to escape. I can’t even save my own wife.”

  “She is alive?” Aleco asked. “Where is she?”

  “She is a slave in Paso Robles.” Artremian bowed his head again, ashamed that he couldn’t protect Penelope from the heinous deeds of the king.

  Father Rhonian nodded. “That was your punishment.” He thought aloud. “To force your wife into a life of servitude while you are powerless to stop it.” Aleco gripped his staff tightly, rubbing the skin of his palm against the rough wood. “This needs to end. The maniac needs to be put down for good.”

  Artremian looked away. “It isn’t possible. If I move against him in anyway, he will kill Penny. My only way to protect her is to do nothing—nothing at all. I’m sorry, Father, but I can’t help you. I will not make my wife suffer anymore.”

  “If I could save your wife, rescue her from Paso Robles, and take her to a safe location, would you assist me?” Aleco stared at the Duke. “I need every man available if I have any hope to succeed.”

  Artremian widened his eyes as he stared at the Nature Priest. “You could save her?”

  “Yes,” Aleco answered. He thought about the last woman he saved from slavery and his heart ached. “It wouldn’t be my first time.”

  Art grabbed him by the shoulder. “If you do this, if you spare my wife and child from Paso Robles, I am yours—forever. I would do whatever you ask of me—I will do anything.”

  “Then consider it done.”

  Artremian raised his eyebrows. “How will you manage this undertaking? You are the Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest. How will you defeat the hundreds of soldiers monitoring the realm without being caught?”

  Aleco smiled. “I haven’t always been a Nature Priest,” he said. “I had a very different occupation for many years. Do not fear, Art, I will retrieve her—do not doubt my abilities in this.” Art eyed him suspiciously. “Please do not ask me what it was,” he said as he rose from his chair. “You would rather not know.” Aleco grabbed the decanter on the counter and took a swig from the jug. “I realize you are immobile in the palace under the watch of the king and the guards, but I need you to do something while I run this errand. Will you?”

  “Of course,” he said. “I am your man.”

  “Good,” he said. “I need you to gather as much information as you can. Find out where the Soul Binders of your keep are being shipped—specifically. Where are they being stored in Letumian Province? I need you to investigate the movement of soldiers and the location of their barracks. Find out anything you can, Artremian—anything at all.”

  “Do you plan to challenge him?” he asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “And I plan to kill him.”

  Canu

  28

  Accacia awoke to the sight of Zyle next to her on the couch. He fell asleep with her almost every night, losing consciousness while reading a book or staring out the window. It was almost routine. She rubbed her bruised arms and rotated her sore wrists. The battle training with Zyle had taken a toll on her body. Zyle treated her as an equal in battle, never softened his blows against her even though she was a woman, and she appreciated it. She wanted to become strong. There was no enemy to fight against, but she still wanted to be fit in battle. She didn’t know when she might need the skills.

  The past year progressed so quickly she didn’t know what happened to the time. Roxian still refrained from granting her freedom, but Accacia didn’t question Zyle about it. She didn’t mind anyway. She enjoyed the time she spent with him. Even though she integrated into the culture of her people and adopted their fighting skills, along with their forestry practices, she still felt alien to this place. Accacia still considered the Continent to be her home despite her easy transition in the Asquithian society, and she thought about Aleco and Father Giloth on a daily basis. She still held a vigil for Aleco within her heart.

  Accacia sat up and stared out the window. She hoped Koku would come and visit them, but she doubted it. His visits were becoming less frequent with the passage of time. It didn’t make sense. Koku seemed so happy when he was with Zyle and Accacia, but he never wanted to be around them.

  She looked at Zyle, who was still asleep on the couch. His face was relaxed and serene, with a slight smile on his lips. He had one arm above his head and the other on his stomach. The image reminded her of a child. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. They had become so close over the past year. He was her best friend, other than Koku, of course, and she enjoyed his presence every day. If he ever left her alone, off to visit Roxian in the city or to tend to his advisor responsibilities, she waited for him in a depression, hoping he would return soon. Accacia hated to be apart from him.

  He opened his eyes at the feel of her lips and stared at her. The look he gave her reminded her of Aleco and her heart ached. Her guilt increased the more time she spent with Zyle. He sat up and kissed her on the forehead.

  “Good morning.” He smiled. He grabbed her hand with his and caressed the skin. She tried to convince herself that their relationship was platonic, but in her heart she knew it wasn’t, not on his part or hers. “How did you sleep?”

  “Well,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Do you think the nightmares are gone for good?”

  “I hope so.”

  Zyle saw the sadness in her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I’m fine.” She couldn’t stop thinking about Aleco. She was betraying him, tarnishing his memory. Had he died so she could be with someone else?

  They both heard the buzzing sound through the window, louder than usual. Accacia smiled as she recognized the hum. She wasn’t expecting him to come today. She was glad she was wrong.

  Koku entered the window, but he wasn’t alone. Another multicolored bird flew through the window and landed on the table before them. Koku flew to Accacia’s shoulder and nibbled on her ear then hopped over to Zyle’s shoulder and clicked his beak.

  The other bird stayed on the table. Its eyes were glued to Accacia.

  Zyle looked at Koku. “Who is your friend?” he asked.

  Koku flew to the table and clicked his beak against the mouth of the other bird. The bird returned the gesture.

  Zyle smiled at the transaction. “It seems that Koku has found a partner.”

  Accacia smiled at the pair of beautiful birds. “That is wonderful, Koku. I am very happy for you.”

  “As am I, Koku,” he said. Zyle turned to Accacia. “His first partner passed away years ago. I’m glad he has found someone new. I was worried he never would.”

  Accacia’s heart squeezed at his words. The second bird hopped over to her and bowed before her. Then it cocked its head to the side as it chirped.

  “Hello, miss,” she said to the bird. “May I have the honor of petting you?”

  The bird nodded.

  She stroked the feathers of the bird as she did with Koku, and the bird closed her eyes at Accacia’s touch. The bird reminded her of Koku. Their personalities
were similar.

  The bird cooed and bowed again.

  Zyle smiled and grabbed Accacia’s hand. “She wants to be your companion,” he said.

  Accacia was stunned. This beautiful bird wanted to be her companion? She felt truly honored by the request. “Nothing would bring me greater honor than to have you as my companion, my friend.”

  The bird nodded and hopped to her shoulder. She nibbled her ear playfully just as Koku did. Accacia giggled at the sensation.

  “What will you name her?” Zyle asked.

  Accacia thought for a moment. “Pia,” she said. Accacia looked at the bird. “If she agrees, of course,” Accacia added.

  Pia nodded.

  Zyle just realized the significance of the events. Koku had brought his life partner to Accacia because Koku assumed that she was Zyle’s life partner. It was the only reason why he would have introduced her in such a way. Canu birds recognize the opinions of the society. If they recognized her as his life partner, then she truly was. Zyle’s heart thumped in his chest. That would also mean Accacia returned his feelings. She felt the same way he did. Zyle suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest. It coursed throughout his entire body, squeezed his heart, then ended as abruptly as it came. Accacia hadn’t noticed the transaction, so entranced by her new companion.

  Accacia smiled at Koku. “Now I understand why you haven’t been around much lately. It seems you have been rather busy.”

  Koku clicked his beak.

  Accacia rubbed his feathers. “I guess Koku has replaced me with someone new.” She turned to Zyle. “Now I know how you feel.” She laughed. Accacia noticed the look of shock on his face. “Are you alright, Zyle?”

  Zyle regained his composure and smiled. “Yes,” he said. “I’m just happy that—Koku—has found such a lovely partner.”

  Accacia stared at him for a moment then turned away. She fed the birds their morning nuts then they flew out the window. Accacia watched them leave with a smile on her face. She was happy she found such a beautiful companion. She feared no one would ever choose her.

 

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